Come Back to Me
by sweet-n-sassy928
Summary: "What did you expect?" "I don't know. I guess I just always thought, you'd come back to me." Continuation of "You Left Me First". Supermartian. Conner/Megan's pov.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice.**

**As a disclaimer, I love supermartian- if you don't, or if you don't want to see them together ever again, I cannot say that I recommend reading this. But if you want to see more supermartian angst and romance… consider sticking with this=) Thanks. Enjoy**

I was dreaming. I knew I was dreaming- by now I could just tell. But, why would I want to wake up and leave the place where I could feel her arms wrapped around my neck; where I could hear her breathing and the strong and gentle beat of her heart; where I could watch her smile unknowingly in her sleep, or she might wake me up with a kiss and go make waffles for breakfast.

But I did wake up, to an empty ceiling and a bowl of cold cereal that I had to pour myself.

I knew where she would be- it wasn't like she would have moved. I'd avoided finding her. Left her her space. Like I should have kept doing. But things had just gotten so _quiet._ Things were too _still._

She sat hunched over his hospital bed, staring at his vital signs. When the team had rescued him, things hadn't gone as planned. They got him back, yes; but he was comatose. Contrary to popular belief, that didn't make me happy, because it made her unhappy. I think it was the last thing she could take. So she sat, just staring, her palms still open in her lap, for the last six days.

When I stepped in, she didn't notice. Of course she didn't. She was still in that slightly incoherent state. Her skin had paled to a milkier shade of green, and her eyes were duller, misty.

I watched her from the doorway. I could still leave. I could still walk away like I hadn't had the sense to six days ago. But I didn't. Would I ever stop finding a way to find her? Could I? It wasn't working out so far.

I scraped a chair across the linoleum, careful to leave a few feet between us. I couldn't let this end like it did six days ago. It wasn't fair- to either of us; or as much as I hated to admit it, to the guy in the coma next to us. She didn't even move. She didn't even blink.

"Hey," I said.

I startled her. Her eyes widened, and at first she didn't say anything. "Hey," she said, so quiet I couldn't believe it came from her.

"How is he?"

She opened her mouth, but shook her head, slowly, wordless. Her breathing faltered. Her hands knitted together in her lap- pulling and twisting her fingers together, like the anxious wreck she was.

"He'll come around." I said.

She bit her lip, nodded.

_What am I doing here?_ I knew- I was coming to check on her. But she wasn't a kid, not anymore. She didn't need a babysitter; and if she did it wasn't my job. Not anymore. As much as I should, I still couldn't leave her alone.

I had said it myself though: _There's nothing left to say._

"You don't need to say anything,"

I glared at her. "You just read my mind. Really?"

She looked at me like I had just hit her. "No I-" she placed a trembling hand against her temple. "I didn't mean to."

* * *

I had heard it, as clearly as if he had said it out loud. But I hadn't read his mind- I hadn't been trying to, anyway. I had no right to ask him to believe me, but I hoped he would, just the same. If I could go back, fix it, stop myself… I would do anything, to change it. But I couldn't.

My chest tightened, and I didn't think I could breath.

His glare softened. "Megan- are you alright?"

"Yes I'm-" I glanced up. His blue eyes trained on me. I couldn't lie to him, even if I tried, even if I wanted to. "No." I said, tremors in my voice.

He had been right, about everything- La'Gaan, me, my powers. At first, it made me angry. Now it just ached.

The relief I felt though, when he'd put his hand on mine, and I had been foolish enough to instinctively rush into his arms, however many days ago, made me ache that much more. How much more could I say I was sorry? How much more could I feel it?

* * *

She put her hand over her mouth, and started to sob. I tensed. I had seen her cry before- several times- but I had never gotten used to it. It bothered me. It had always bothered me. It would always bother me.

I still had no idea how to deal with it. _Don't touch her- it didn't help last time and it's not going to help now._ I couldn't just watch her though.

Cautiously, more cautiously than I had six days ago anyway, I put my hand in hers. That was fair; a friend, a teammate might do that. She calmed down some- even if she was still crying, she wasn't sobbing, and I could hear her breathing again.

I squeezed her hand. And she squeezed back.

**A/N: This note isn't all **_**that**_** critical- but I just thought I'd make a few comments.**

**1) I just realized this is very similar to its counterpart "You Left Me First"- I think it's just to get the plot rolling again.**

**2) Why am I writing this apart from its counterpart "You Left Me First"? Because I liked YLMF better as a one shot (it was complete, but not **_**completely **_**complete. If that makes sense.). And because I wanted to add in a little bit of Megan's point of view, which didn't really flow with the rest of it.**

**3) This will in fact be multiple chapters (I'm not sure exactly how many, but there will be more than one). **

**4) If you're actually still reading this (I know, it was almost as long as the actual story), thank you=) and please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice**

"Conner," I jolted awake. Cold sweat slicked my palms, my temples, the back of my legs. I shuddered. He'd been there when I'd fallen asleep, holding my hand as I nodded off for what felt like the first time in days. Now, he was gone, again. _Come on Megan;_ what did I expect? That he would sit with me all night to watch me sleep? Like he used to…

Of course not… maybe. Yes; no. I don't know. But the way I frowned when I woke up and he wasn't there made me realize that part of me was at least hoping for it. _Don't be stupid_… I shouldn't be that way—not with La'Gaan laying in the med bay. But neither of us was fooling anyone. I wasn't even fooling myself. Not completely, anyway.

_I care about La'Gaan. I do._ I sighed to the empty ceiling. _My life is with him now_. Wasn't it?

I rolled up to a sitting position. Of course, Conner had moved me from that cranky plastic chair to one of the vacant hospital beds. He was thoughtful, that way.

"You're awake."

I jumped, nearly crashing from the bed. Conner frowned at me- I'm not sure if it was because he scared me or because he thought I should still be asleep.

"I couldn't sleep forever." I said, composing myself.

He still frowned at me. We were awkward- awkward and angry and hurt, on both sides; I wouldn't deny him his share of that. There was no way around any of it. My trying to find one just made things worse.

"I-" He looked from me to the small round plate in his hand. "You haven't left here a lot. I thought you could use a- breakfast."

A wry smile snuck up on my face. It was the longest statement he made to me in a long time, and it wasn't entirely coherent. "Thank you." I said, gingerly taking the plate from his hand. Toast- a little burned, with butter and black berry jam. Suddenly I couldn't remember the last time I was so hungry. It crunched in my ears between the silence.

He slumped, like he didn't know what to do.

"Do you," his blue eyes hovered around the room, on anything but me. "Need anything?"

"No," I said, a little bit too quickly. He nodded, and I realized I didn't want him to go- not yet. "Some company?" I hadn't _asked_ for his company in ages. I glanced at my fingernails, away from him, in case he said no.

Instead, he sat down in the chair. I could tell, by the look on his face, the way his shoulders caved forward just slightly, the cautious tinge in his eyes- he wasn't there to change anything: he was there because he felt sorry for me; because he felt like he owed it to me, to what we were, to grant me my request.

At the moment, I didn't care.

"You two aren't having any interesting conversations?"

"That's not funny," I said, but the smile threatening the corner of my lips didn't make it too convincing. I missed his sarcasm. For a second, he almost smiled too- well, at least he wasn't frowning or scowling. _This might be the most normal moment we've had in months._ I couldn't remember the last time we weren't glaring at each other, or I wasn't crying like a basket case. I savored it- like I might not ever have had it again- because that was a real possibility. _When did this get so complicated?_

"He's not so bad." I said. My arms wrapped around my knees.

Conner looked from me, to La'Gaan, and back to me, then shrugged. "I would hope not."

I couldn't ask what he had against him. It was a stupid question.

Then it was quiet again, and we avoided eye contact, as usual—or, what had _become_ usual.

"You know what I don't understand," he said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What?" I said, cautiously.

"You've got all this power, and you don't really limit yourself with _rules_ anymore-"

It stung. What was worse was that I couldn't argue with him.

"Couldn't you just wake him up?"

* * *

I'd upset her. She didn't even bother to cover it up with some denial defense that she knew I wouldn't believe. Her shoulders dropped. She looked straight at me, with hurt amber eyes.

She rubbed her jaw, clutching the top of her neck, like she was thinking about what to say. Her mouth opened, then shut. She just shook her head. "I can't."

My eyes narrowed. "Can't or won't?"

"Both." She said, stronger this time, before softening again. Her shoulders fell back and a blank look came over her face. "It's complicated."

I just shook my head. I didn't understand her, not anymore. She'd dismembered enemy psyches without even thinking about it. But now that a teammate, her own boyfriend, needed _saving_, she wouldn't do anything. Four years ago that might have been typical, for her to be afraid of herself. But now- I just didn't understand.

"You never even liked him," she said- not accusingly. Just a statement.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

"Was I supposed to roll the welcome mat out for my replacement?" I snapped. Of course, I was the first to raise my voice- even if it wasn't by much. She wasn't a yeller- not even when we had argued, not even now.

There it was again- that look she had, like I had just struck her. "Megan," I rubbed my hands over my face. You would think by now I would know how to speak to her. We couldn't talk to each other anymore.

She raised a hand to me. "You don't need to explain."

So I didn't. I didn't want to argue with her. We'd done enough of that.

"Why did you come down here?" She said, after a short mutual silence.

"You know why." We both did. I stood up to leave. _Can we really stay this way?_ Friends, teammates, confidants- I don't know; whatever _this_ was. _This_ was driving me insane. But I'd be back. I knew I would.

**A/N: There it is. There should be an actual plot developing at some point- slowly but surely or whatever. Thanks for reading. Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice**

If I got any more sympathetic stares, I might have collapsed. I walked in, the room went silent. The murmurs stopped, like if they kept talking I might shatter. I wrapped my hand around my elbow, tipped my head toward the ground, and walked through the kitchen. _Please stop looking at me_; _please stop looking at me._

"Megan,"

Gar. I couldn't remember ever being so thankful to see him. "Hey," I said, unable to suppress a smile- a _real_ smile- when he threw his arms around me. He looked up at me with huge green eyes.

"How is-"

Before he could finish, I gave him a slight shake of my head. He closed his mouth, his smile gone.

"Noted."

'_I can't imagine-'_

'_She must be so-'_

'_I wonder if she's-'_

"What are you guys talking about?" I said. The room went silent. A lightheaded buzz filled my temples.

The team gave me startled, puzzled looks. Even Gar's eyebrows folded together. Conner had just slipped in the room. He stood in the doorway, his blue eyes narrowing at me. _What just happened?_

Nightwing exchanged a glance with Gar. "Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes narrowing behind his mask.

My hand raised to the buzzing in my temple. I nodded. "Hello Megan," I said, quickly brushing it off. "I probably just need- a break."

Nightwing gave me a nod. "Get some rest Megs. Try to stay whelmed."

I returned with a less than graceful smile, Patted Gar on the head, and stepped out. But I wasn't alone.

* * *

I followed her from the exit, down into an empty hall where the lights were on too bright and the air was too cold. She knew I was behind her- she had to- but she ignored me anyway. I took her wrist, giving her a slight jerk toward me.

"Conner,"

"What was that?"

Our stares locked. Her lips pursed. Months ago, she would have told me without even asking. But this wasn't then. Anything I wanted from her, I would have to request or demand. "What happened out there?" I said, my eyes narrowing at her.

"I don't know," she said, in a fragile voice that almost made me feel bad for cornering her. "I'm just under a lot of stress." She said, her eyes still trained on mine. "Please let go," her wrist was still firmly in my hand. If she'd wanted to, she could have pulled it away.

My jaw tightened. She could sell that 'stress' excuse to Nightwing, but I knew her better. She trembled- just a little, just enough for me to feel it in her wrist.

"Please," Her wide eyes blinked at me.

Reluctantly, I dropped her arm. She didn't rush off, though, just looked at her shoes for a second. "I'm just under a lot of stress." She repeated. It had to be more for her benefit than mine.

"Megan," I said, rubbing my hand behind my neck. "Whatever just happened out there- whatever's going on you should tell someone," I pulled my fingers into mine because, I don't know, she just looked like she needed it. "It doesn't have to be me. But it should be someone. Nightwing, Wally, Gar-" Her eyes came back up to mine. "Anyone."

She nodded, connecting her hand to her wrist. "Thanks, Conner." She paced down the hall.

"You're welcome," I said, by the time she was already gone.

"So- you two have been spending some time together."

"Gar," I said without turning. If I had been paying closer attention, I would have known it was his footsteps coming up behind me.

"Are you guys-"

"No,"

"So the two of you-"

"No."

"Do you think that-"

"No."

"Did you even know what I was going to ask?"

"Didn't have to."

Gar liked Lagoon Boy about as much as I did.

He frowned. "She still likes you."

"So I've heard." _Why does that keep coming up?_

"Do you still like her?"

"Doesn't matter." I said, more to convince myself.

"So you do?"

I didn't answer. It was too complicated for an answer. And even if I could, _like _wasn't the right term for it. But he wouldn't back down. That kid could be as stubborn as me sometimes. "I still care about her okay?"

A smile lit his face like a firecracker.

Before he could get any ideas, I cut him off. "Look out for her for me will you?"

His brow creased. "Is she okay?"

I couldn't tell him his sister might be on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. For all I knew, she might have been right, maybe it was just stress and I was just being overly critical.

"Just- look out for her alright?"

He nodded at me, slowly.

It wasn't that I needed him to. I had a feeling I would be looking out for her enough for the both of us.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice**

"Megan," I gripped her shoulders, shaking her. "Megan."

At first, I just let it go. It was just noise, maybe she couldn't sleep. But there was a crash; I knew something was wrong.

I had heard her have nightmares before- when she would toss and turn and shiver and whisper nonsense. Then one night I woke her up- smoothing her hair from her face. She woke up and just started to cry. I'd lifted her into my arms without thinking. When she calmed down, her eyes held mine, and she said two words: "Don't leave."

And I didn't. I stayed there next to her; she had fallen asleep pressed against my side, with her cheek and her palm against my chest, and my arm protectively around her. She drooled in her sleep- leaving a small puddle where my heart beat under her; but I didn't care. Because the way she looked at me when she woke up- like I could fix anything, like I could be her everything- I knew things would never be the same: I would never feel this way about anyone else.

So from that night on, if she stirred, I would go be with her, and she would be still. And, for once, I would be still too.

_But none of that matters now._ I stopped searching for that stillness when I walked away from her, from us.

She had told me they were dreams about Mars, the wars, her old life. It had been painful, but she told me. I would bet she never told La'Gaan. I almost knew he had no idea how little she slept at night.

But tonight was different- it wasn't the quiet restlessness that was normal for her. Something was wrong.

When I opened her door, my mouth dropped.

She hovered, in the middle of the room, with everything- literally everything- books, her laptop, her blankets, perfume bottles, everything but her bed- spun in quick, uneven ovals around her. But she was asleep, shivering and trembling, but asleep.

I ducked through the cyclone surrounding her, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Megan?" I shook her, just enough to get her attention. "Megan."

Her eyes snapped open. Everything dropped to the ground with a thud. Her breath came in heavy, ragged bursts. "C-C-Conner?" It was about twenty degrees too hot in here.

"Megan," I repeated. She looked from me to the cluttered floors to the blank walls, blinking and frantic. "Megan." I said, taking her chin between my thumb and finger. "Megan," I said, more gently this time. "What happened?"

She stared at me, large, intent eyes. "I don't know." She said through a shaky breath. She had that look like she was about to cry. "I don't know what's going on."

In spite of everything that had happened between us, I believe her.

So instead of leaving her to start crying alone, or grilling her about the disarray around her, I pulled her toward me, instinctively. We sank to the floor. I leaned my head back. I might regret this in the morning; for now, I had more to worry about. Like what was going on with her- because it was more than just _stress._

At first, I ignored it. Like when I had accidently read his mind last week. Was it last week? I didn't know. I couldn't keep the days straight.

But it had gotten progressively worse. For the last few days, I hadn't been able to go into a room without hearing every thought from every person there. I couldn't tell the difference between what was actually being said and what wasn't. I hadn't slept, not since the night he had left me in the med bay. Not really, anyway.

And now…

"Megan," Conner shook me gently. "Megan."

My eyes shot open. A spinning pile of _stuff_ toppled to the ground. I gasped. It was like I couldn't get any air into my lungs. "C-C-Conner."

"Megan."

My eyes darted over the room. I was in my room. I had been dreaming. I had been dreaming. But of what? _What's going on_?

"Megan," he took my chin in his fingers, guiding me to focus on him, his blue eyes fixed on me through the dark. "What happened?"

I had no idea. And that scared me. "I don't know," I said. "I don't know what's going on."

He didn't hesitate to pull me into his arms. I was so glad that it had been him first. That he didn't puncture me with questions r demand answers I didn't have. Instead he allowed me to settle into his familiar embrace. Where it was warm and he smelled like peppermint and soap and I could forget, just for a little bit, what had fallen apart between us, what was falling apart around me now.

"I'm so tired." I said, half conscious, without thinking.

"I know,"

Mercifully, I fell asleep after that.

She murmured in her sleep, in Martian, I think. I nodded off for a little bit too.

I scooped her off the floor, her knees over my arm, her arms loose around my neck, to deposit her on her bed, while I attempted to undo some of the wreckage. She'd broken a lamp; its glass bulb laid sprayed across the floor. I stuffed the drawers back in their slots, placed her now dusty cookbooks back on their shelves.

Then I found it- a photograph, from years ago.

The sound of her sitting up lurched in my ears.

"You still have this," I said.

Light pink blush flushed in her sage green cheeks. "I must have- forgotten about it."

It was from one of our days on the beach- right at sunset. She had her arms over me, with her cheek pressed up against mine, and a smile that could put a power plant out of business. I set it down on her desk- not telling her I had the same picture, turned faced down, in an otherwise empty drawer somewhere.

"What happened last night?" I asked her again.

"I'm not sure."

I stared at her, waiting for more.

"The other day," she started slowly, like she needed to find the nerve. "You told me to talk to someone."

"Right."

"I haven't."

It wouldn't be the first time she hadn't listened to me.

"Because the only person I could really tell is you."

She paused, waiting for my approval. _Do I give it to her?_ I should have kept my distance- but what difference did it make now that I'd abandoned it? So I nodded at her to go on.

"It's happening again."

My eyes widened, then narrowed. "Since when?"

She shook her head. "Conner," her voice dropped. "I think I need help."

**A/N: I know, this update took forever. My greatest apologies. It shouldn't happen again. **

**The plot should be coming to a stew... hopefully! And I'm just now realizing that this is going to be fairly short (around ten chapters). A huge thank you for reading. If you would like to review, that would be really great=)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice**

He was the only one I could tell- not Gar, who looked up to me so much, not Nightwing, who already had enough to handle, not Wally who was devastated enough as it was. So that left him. If I was honest with myself, which I admit I wasn't, he was the only one I wanted to tell.

The hardest part was the initial confession. Then there was no way to get back.

Years ago, when we had linked our minds to perform a purposefully disastrous mission, my subconscious lost control. For a few weeks after, my telepathic abilities were… less than controlled. He was the only person I told. Eventually it just stopped. Things were back to normal, I was back in control. Or so I thought. But now it was happening again.

I told him everything- about hearing things that were never said, about the nightmares too, even though I'm sure he already knew about those. I told him, because after everything- _even_ after everything- how could I tell anyone else?

* * *

We sat in an awkward triangle. Not speaking. She had asked me to stay. _Right_, because things weren't awkward enough between us already. She was alone enough though, without me leaving her to do this by herself.

J'onn stood up. "I feared this would happen." He sighed. "It is regrettable that you did not make me aware of it earlier."

Her head hung, shamefully, toward her toes. I felt like I was taking her to a doctor's appointment, and it was driving me insane. _Couldn't just let her be a good girl and let her do this herself._ No. It was becoming a pattern… I would have to adjust that at some point- at least before La'Gaan woke up.

"So?" I said. "How can you help her?"

"M'gann is," He glanced over at her. "Extremely powerful. Her power exceeds her ability to control it."

"I can control it," she said, her eyes narrow and determined. Her chin tilted upward, up slightly. A look from her uncle though, and she took half a step back.

"What can you do?" I repeated, my jaw locking in place.

"The first option is to contain her mental powers," His stare broke from her to me. "Like putting a lock on a door."

"So that it can bottleneck until she bursts?" I snapped. "She's close enough to a nervous breakdown as it is." She bit down on her lower lip, just enough to make me feel like I owed her an apology. Again.

"The second option," J'onn said, more patiently than me, "is to bring her up to the level of her powers. It will take quite a bit of conditioning, but it will be less of a risk."

She looked at him, the way she did when she was having a mental conversation. I took that as my cue to leave, nodding my goodbye and stepping toward the exit.

"Wait," she said. "You should stay. In case something goes wrong."

I looked to J'onn. But he nodded, reluctantly. "Wait outside."

I didn't want to. I _really_ didn't want to. The point of breaking up was to establish distance- so she wouldn't think I condoned anything_. I shouldn't keep getting close to her_- but I couldn't leave now either. Not now that I had her uncle involved.

So I sat down on the floor outside, where Wolf found me.

"Just a Superboy and his dog." I said, patting Wolf on the head. _And his Martian ex-girlfriend and her Martian uncle doing psychic conditioning in the other room. _How was that for complicated? Not that any of this was funny.

Wolf pawed the door, whimpered. I hadn't been the only one with a soft spot for her; I wasn't the only one who missed her, or the only one who was worried about her. "She'll be alright." I said. "She'll be alright."

As I repeated it she came out, a little shaky, like she was dizzy. I stood, grabbing her arms before she tripped. She shook her head.

"Are you alright?" Her eyes met mine.

She swallowed, nodding. "Thank you for staying,"

I shrugged. "You're welcome."

* * *

He walked me to my room, still wearing that look, like he felt sorry for me. Like he owed me. This time, I cared.

"Why are you still helping me?"

He watched me, like he was deciding if he should say anything. "You could still come around."

"What does that mean?"

"You know what it means."

I got defensive. "I've done what I've done for the good of the team." I said. _Can't you see that?_

He glared at me. "So the ends justify the means?"

"No." I said too quickly. He'd set me up for that, and for a second I was offended that he trapped me. "I've saved people."

"And victimized others."

My shoulders fell. I couldn't argue with him anymore; I was exhausted in more ways than one. "I've had to make hard decisions, Conner," I wrapped my arms around myself. "I have to come to terms with them all the time." I hurried into my room and shut the door behind me, before he could see me cry.

**A/N: I should take this moment to inform everyone that I'm not totally a DC expert, so I'm kind of makin' this up as I go (just so you don't judge me too harshly). But yeah, that's it for this update. Thank you so much for reading! And everyone who has followed, or favorite this, thank you **_**so much**_**. And everyone who has reviewed BIG HUGE GINORMOUS thank you :D**

**Thoughts? do tell!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So I know… I'm basically a good for nothing… I've actually had this chapter written for a long time—it's getting around to posting that's been killing me. So, finally, here it is (my greatest apologies for the Ridonculous wait).**

**I do not own Young Justice.**

Had I been too hard on her? No—there were some lines between right and wrong that just shouldn't be blurred. But then, it couldn't have been easy to make the choices she did—even if I thought- _knew_- she was wrong.

Alright that was one thing—but me, my mind. That was different. Completely. How could she? I'd been looking for an excuse to forgive her, but how could I? I loved her. I could have excused anything for her: not that…

And then there was La'Gaan.

Was there any going back after that? How could there be?

But at the same time, I wanted to: I wanted to forgive her. When you love someone, like I loved her, that doesn't just go away; it stays with you. I'd always love her. We just wouldn't be together.

Which is why I was seeking her out. Because we'd talked and talked and talked without getting or giving any answers. She was strong, and I was stubborn—some things just don't change.

_Even when everything else does._

There were three places she would be. She wasn't in her room, and she wasn't with her uncle, so that left one.

"Any changes?" I said.

"Nightwing said he showed some signs of activity last night."

She wasn't as jumpy, but she was just as on edge. She tucked her hair behind her ear, crossed her legs. she was literally sitting on the edge of her seat, with her fingers clutching the plastic on the sides of her. I pulled up a chair next to her, got to her level.

"Is it—helping? Working with your uncle?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Others…" she sighed, shuddering. "It's worse." Her arms folded around herself. "How's Gar?"

"He's asked about you." I said. "You should see him."

"I will."

We didn't look at each other. For a long time.

"I would have gotten over it eventually. You knew I would have. I was upset with you but it couldn't have lasted forever." I said, fast, before I lost the nerve. "So what were you thinking?"

Her eyes closed. A breathe coursed through her chest. She knew what I was talking about. "I wasn't." A tear rolled over the curve of her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her wrist. "I'm so sorry, Conner. I'm _so_ sorry. I can't stop being sorry."

"I could have forgiven you." I said. "I'm sorry I made you think I couldn't."

"Could you still?"

"I don't know." I loved her, but she wouldn't look at me. "What does it matter? You've moved on."

"Conner," she sighed. There was a pause where I just glared at her while she stared at the floor. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," I said, digging my fingers through my hair. "I guess I just always thought, you'd come back to me."

She sucked in her lower lip, like she couldn't respond to me.

"Do you love him?" As long as I was saying it, I might as well have said all of it.

It got her attention.

"I care about him." She said.

"Do you love him?" I needed to hear her say it.

"No." She said after a second.

"Then why are you with him?" I snapped. I didn't have a right to be jealous but I was—jealous and angry and frustrated.

"Because he wanted me when you didn't."

I reached for her hand. Her fist loosened in my palm. I got so close to her I could feel her breathing against my lips. She was so close—so close. And I realize, I'm thinking about it, about wanting to kiss her. Another tear ran down her face. I resisted the impulse to smooth it off. "I didn't agree with you. I was—I am—upset," I said. "But I never stopped wanting you."

Her lips parted, but she didn't get the chance to say anything. Because we'd both turned to the sky rocketing vitals next to us.

* * *

_I am happy. I am._

I was happy. But not the way I should have been.

"La'Gaan," I said. I threw my arms around him as he gasped awake. But more out of relief than affection.

"Angelfish," he said weakly as he fell back into the pillow behind him.

I didn't know what to say. I looked from him, to Conner. _Conner_—I couldn't even remember what I was about to say to him, not with the shock.

"Chum."

"La'Gaan."

I hadn't expected them to suddenly become friends. But I hadn't expected them to immediately pick up the hostility again either. I should have—Conner being so stubborn and La'Gaan being so jealous.

"Did I interrupt something?" he said; feeble as he was, he had energy to try to get under his skin.

Conner's jaw tightened. "Actually—"

"Conner—" I said, touching open fingers on his wrist. My eyes pleaded with him to let it go—just this once. He bit his tongue. In spite of his temper, he did what he could to avoid upsetting me—he still did.

La'Gaan glanced from the place where my hand touched Conner's wrist, up to his blue eyes. La'Gaan tilted his head, adopted a sarcastic glint in his eye. He smoothly snatched my fingers from Superboy, into his own hand.

"La'Gaan," I said quietly, before he could say anything. Unlike Conner, he ignored me.

"Hope you've taken good care of my Angelfish." He sat up, reeling me into his arms. It didn't feel right—and it was more than the fact that he was using me as a competitive pawn. It was the gap—the past however many days he hadn't been there, while someone else had. "But I can take it from here."

Hot blush filled my cheeks. My eyes still pleaded with Conner to let it go. Just for now. He was about to walk out, I could see it in the rigid cast of his blue eyes. But Nightwing and Cassie and Robin and Gar and everyone else flooded into the med bay before he could make an exit.

I swallowed a dry, cold clump of sanitized air through my mouth. _This is too much._

"LB, you're awake. I—"

'_She must be so—'_

"Do you know what—"

'_I wonder if he—'_

"When did he—"

Everything blurred—words, thoughts, sounds, images. My thoughts wouldn't join together at all.

"Megan?" Nightwing put a hand on my shoulder. "Megan, are you alright?"

I nodded, half delirious.

"Megan, do you know when—"

"Excuse me," I said, lurching up and away from La'Gaan. Striding to the door. I made it to the missions' room, before everything went blank.

**A/N: Dun dun dun! Haha. Just kidding. I'm sure it's not **_**really**_** that dramatic. When I first wrote this story, I wasn't going to wake LB up (because honestly, who likes him? No offense, if you do) but that kind of seemed a little like a cop out, so I bit the proverbial bullet and had him rise and shine.**

**Again, so for the wait=/ please, let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Okay, not to be a suck up or anything, but, in order to make up for my extended absence (at least partially) I'm doing back to back updates.**

**Even though this chapter will be really really short… well, at least it's getting posted.**

**I do not own Young Justice.**

"Excuse me,"

She brushed past Nightwing and made a wobbly bee line toward the door, her skin just a little paler than it had been several minutes ago. I glanced at Nightwing, just long enough for her to stumble out the door. I followed her, Nightwing and Gar right behind me.

She kneeled on the floor of the missions room, her palms planted flat on the floor, breathing hard, shallow breaths.

"Megan," Nightwing stepped forward, just to drop back to the floor alongside Gar and me.

I will never get used to being _brain blasted._ It's a lingering, unnatural ache

I came to, a haze clotting the rim of my vision. Nightwing and Gar tried to sit up next to me. All the door were sealed. A psychic vortex, like the one she had around her the other night, whirled around her, carrying debris along with it.

"What's going on with her?" Nightwing said over the roar of the wind.

Of course, both of them look to me. Assumed that I would know.

"I don't know," I said. It's true. Mostly. "She's too powerful. It's beyond her control."

"What?" Gar looked at me with wide green eyes.

"She's too strong for her own good." I said, looking up at her. "Manhunter said stress, anxiety, almost anything might set her off." She'd told me that anyway, after one of her sessions.

"_He keeps telling me to be careful… anything could put me at risk." She had said when I walked her to her room after one of her sessions._

"_At risk for what?"_

_She had just looked up at me._

"_Fine," I had said. She was entitled to her secrets, and if it was that bad, maybe it would be better if I didn't know. "Then be careful."_

This was what she had been talking about. Loss of conscious control.

"He knows what's going on with her?" Nightwing said, reining me back to the present. Noise rattled violently from the vortex until we were yelling back and forth.

I nodded.

"And you do to?"

I nodded, more reluctantly. It was only partially true. "Get Manhunter."

"No time," he said. "All the doors are shut and if that thing gets any bigger, the pressure will bring the whole room down." His eyes locked with mine. "Do you think you can get her down?"

I took a breath in, then nodded. She was pretty high up, but I could get to her. Probably.

One jump. I misjudged it. The twister she was generating threw me off. I grabbed her knees, pulling myself up to her level. I don't know what I thought—that I would just be able to tackle her down, get her to the ground and then… coax her back to coherence?

A vacant stare. The glow of her eyes. she wasn't there at all. Her hair lifted from her face, just from the raw power radiating from her. Holding on to her was a strain, even for me.

"Megan," I said.

The wind pounded in my ears. She didn't respond. I looked to the ground. I wasn't good for this—maybe I could have been months ago (_maybe_). But not now. I looked back at her though, and even though she was the one holding me up, she was the one who needed saving.

And I always had a weak spot for saving her.

"Megan," my hand cupped over her jaw. I couldn't get her back to the ground. It wasn't an option—not while she was like this. "I know you're in there, I know you can hear me."

No response.

"Come on Megan, come on," I said, the spin getting stronger around us. Every second the pressure grew stronger, bigger. _Please Megan. Please. _I tipped my forehead to hers. _Come back to me._

Her eyes jolted open. Wide, amber, and startled. They connected to mine. For the half second before hers closed and we started falling.

I reached for her, less than gracefully heaving her over my shoulder before we hit the ground.

Gar raced to where we landed. I rolled her from my shoulder, to my arms, setting her gently on the floor. Reflexively, I brushed her hair from her face. Her heart banged in her chest, almost twice as fast as it would normally. Sweat beaded along her temples. Her breathing was shallow. The debris had landed around us with an epic _boom_.

"Is she—"

"No," I said, resting my hand on hers. "She'll be alright," _physically, anyway. _"She'll be alright." I repeated, because I needed to hear it.

**A/N: Yep. So I went with the cliché telepath-mental-breakdown scene. Don't judge me. It was grander in my head, okay?**

**Review, please. It will make me happy.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: It's a miracle. I'm updating again. In a timely manner. Three in a row! So crazy! I think it's because I'm in that crazy-sad-excited state I get into when I'm about to finish a story. But you don't care about my psych-self-diagnosis. On with the show!  
**

**I do not own Young Justice.**

I woke up slowly. _There's too much light in here._ I winced as my eyes attempted to open. Dry sanitized air stuck in my throat. A slender tube delivered fluid to the vein in my arm, and sensors adhered to the top of my chest. I clamped my eyes shut again, willing the unnatural white light to go away.

"Angelfish," his webbed hand stroked my cheek. I breathed; relief, and disappointment, flushed through me as I opened my eyes.

"La'Gaan."

From the other corner of the room, Batman and Uncle J'onn whispered to each other.

"You alright Angelfish?" he scooped my fingers into his, his brow furrowed.

_I'm not_. I knew that. But for whatever reason, I didn't want to tell him that. I blinked, then nodded quickly, amplifying the dull ache in my head. "I'm alright," I coughed. "Just lost it… for a little bit."

"Lost it?" he said. "It was like you went totally insane." He smirked, shaking his head.

"Thanks," I said, forcing the corner of my mouth up as I said it because the way he said it… I don't know. It bothered me.

"You know," he said, more serious than usual. "You can tell me anything."

I could—but I couldn't. more specifically, I wasn't sure that I wanted to. I half nodded, but I really, _really_ didn't want to talk about it. not while it was still so fresh. So I changed the subject—like I always did. "What happened," I attempted (and failed) to sit up. That widened his smirk. "What happened to you, while you weren't here?"

I slid my hands back to my lap. But he followed; his hand encased mine, locking his fingers in mine with a possessive grip.

"All I could think about was—"

He was talking but I wasn't listening. I just kept swallowing and swallowing and wishing it wasn't so dry in here. But the truth was there was so much space, so much he'd missed, while he wasn't here. Things I couldn't explain or connect to him. Questions I asked myself. And of course the recent incident that I couldn't explain—not to anyone. Except…

"Can I," there couldn't be any reversing this statement. Was this really where those questions I had to ask myself led? "Talk to you?"

_Yes._ It was. I had to start being honest. If there was ever going to be a wakeup call, this was it. So, I could start now.

He frowned, midsentence. "Of course Angelfish."

"Not until we speak with her," Batman and Uncle J'onn stepped forward. They waited for La'Gaan to step out. I shrank. _What am I going to say to them?_ All of them.

* * *

"Wow. Just—wow." It was all Gar could manage to say. He would open his mouth to try to speak, just to repeat the same phrase.

It was the two of us waiting, from a distance, in the kitchen. The fridge hummed; the toaster buzzed while Gar almost burned yet another pair of strawberry Pop Tarts. I turned off the toaster before it set on fire.

"You might want to try cooking something different." I said, indifferent to the fact that toaster pastries were probably all he knew _how_ to cook.

"Did you know?" He asked, plopping scalding rectangle on a paper plate.

"About?" I said. I knew what he was talking about—but I thought I'd give him a chance to change his mind. For both our sakes.

"About her being all…"

There wasn't really a word for it.

"You know," he shrugged. "That," he pointed in the direction of the missions room.

I paused for a second before nodding. "I knew." I said, pouring a half full glass of orange juice down the sink, watching it cycle down the drain. He frowned. "I didn't think everyone needed to know," I shrugged. It had been her business, and I still felt protective of her.

He nodded at me. "You think she'll be alright?"

I almost smiled. "She's stronger than you'd think."

He almost smiled back. "Yeah, I know." we let it get quiet again. "So… are you going to go see her?"

Of course, that was complicated. Like most things between us. La'Gaan woke up. She didn't _need_ me there anymore. But after the time he'd been absent, I couldn't tell what was my place and what wasn't.

"You should," Gar said, before toting his half burned Pop Tarts back to his room.

I sighed, shaking my head. Gar had his own agenda. But I went, after waiting for the next morning to come around. I went early. La' Gaan wasn't a morning person.

She was still asleep, her head tilted to the side so that her bangs spread across her pale green skin. I wrapped my hand around hers, gingerly. My thumb stroked along the back of her hand.

"Conner," she murmured, her eyes half closed.

"Hey Megan," I said.

Her hand squeezed mine a little lighter. She rolled up to a sitting position, pulling her knees under her chin. It was all we said for awhile.

**A/N: Another short chapter—they probably will be, from here out. There's only a couple left=( just to warn you guys.**

**Please review. It will make me happy.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I do not own Young Justice.**

"So… how are you…"

She threw a look at me that I wasn't really expecting.

"I almost destroyed the cave. It kind of gave me a massive headache."

"Fair enough." I said.

A wry smile tipped the corners of her mouth up, amused but humorless. She stared at the IV, dripping fluids into her arm. She paled. Machines around her beeped, informing us every second that she was alive. Quiet enclosed us, as usual.

"Do you remember anything?" I wasn't sure what to ask, but all the silence and beeping was getting under my skin.

She shook her head. "How's Gar?" a look of disappointment covered her already distressed features.

"Hungry," I said. It was weird, being the one who had to lighten the mood. But it was true and I didn't need to watch her frown any more. "He can't cook anything without you."

She almost smiled.

I thought about getting closer to her, but with La'Gaan up and about again… something just told me that wasn't going to be an option.

"He was the one who told me to come see you." It was misleading. I hadn't thought about it as I said it, but I did it on purpose.

"He told you to?" I knew the hurt that settled on her face. I should back track, shouldn't back track… I didn't know any more. She winced as she tried to wrap her arms around herself, digging the IV needle further into her slender arm.

"Careful," I blurted out. I reached out to still her wrist, just to retract my hand while avoiding her eyes. Sometime, I was just going to have to accept that no matter how any of this worked out, I would never stop protecting her. Which was probably why she was laying in the med bay. "I was going to come. I needed a push."

She nodded; again, quiet.

"So—do you and Lagoon Boy go back to being the happy couple?"

* * *

It wasn't resentful, even though he had a right to it. I tucked my hair behind my ear, swallowed. I wasn't exactly sure what to say. His brow knitted at me.

"What makes you say that?" I said softly.

He scoffed. "Isn't that how you sell yourselves?"

"We're not selling anything." I tugged at my fingers, licked my lips, searched for time to find the words.

He gave me a look—a knowing smirk. "Alright." He said with a shrug.

"Why do you do that?" I said before I could filter it back. I forced my eyes to meet his. "If you want to say something," my voice dropped. "Then say it."

He hesitated, like he was going to avoid it. "You know how I feel about him. You know I don't think you have feelings for him." He paused. "And you know how I feel about you."

Hot pink blush rushed to my cheeks. It flustered me. I hadn't been prepared for that. "Conner," I choked out.

"But it doesn't matter, because it doesn't bother you that you're in denial or that he's a jerk, or even that—"

"Stop," I held up my hand. Tears fogged my vision. The pain from everything he was saying stung along my skin. "You'll be happy to know," I desperately gulped down the swell in my throat. "That I ended it." I said. "And that the League has put me on probation until further notice."

His face softened to a guilty shade. "Megan," he said. "I didn't—"

"Just go," I said, pulling back my hand, in spite of the way it stabbed the IV needle farther up my arm. He blinked at me. After everything we'd been through, I was surprised at how much this hurt me. "Just go."

He lingered out of the room.

When he was gone, silent and alone, I let the weight of all of it crush down on me, and I cried.

* * *

So again, I found a way to make myself the bad guy. It's something I've gotten good at. At least now, I'd gotten better at apologizing too.

They had let her go back to her room the night before. Her door was open, but I knocked on the side of the wall anyway. She glanced up from the books she was organizing into boxes.

"Conner," she said, quiet and formal. She went back to placing the books into the cardboard walls of the box in front of her.

"Megan," I said, keeping my distance in the doorway. "I—" I exhaled. "I'm sorry."

She looked up at me, then back to a pair of empty palms. "It's okay." She said softly. "You were right," she chewed her lower lip.

We breathed. My temper was no secret—especially not to her.

"I had to start being honest eventually." She said. "I told him that," her arms curled around herself. "Not that it helped at all."

I nodded. I didn't need to know. It wasn't my business. But I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad. That I wasn't just slightly hopeful. The sad, tired look in her eyes though, made all of it taste bitter.

"And the probation?" I asked.

Her head hung lower. "It's—it won't matter." She sighed, smoothing her hand along her forehead.

My brow creased. "What are you going to do?"

She stood, taking a single step closer to me. "I've made some choices that I shouldn't have," she bit down on her lip. "It just seems like…" she shook her head. "Things would be better, if I could just get a fresh start."

"You're leaving?" I said. "You're just going to go?"

"It worked, for Wally," she said. "I don't want to have to make any more questionable choices. There's so much I'm already sorry for."

I didn't get angry though. For the first time, I realized how much I never wanted her to go. I took her hands in mine.

"You don't have to leave."

"Conner," her eyes twined in mine. "This isn't my dream world where all of my problems get fixed in twenty-two minutes." She said it with a defeated tone that made me feel guilty. "This is me waking up."

"We could get through this, together." I smoothed the hair away from her face. She caught my palm and brought it to her sage green cheek.

"Maybe," she said.

I tilted my forehead against hers. It had been so long since I had kissed her—since I'd sincerely considered touching my lips to hers. But now, I wanted to. I missed her. I missed her so much already.

"But not here," she whispered shakily.

How could I let her go, now, again? How could she just leave? It was a choice: forgive her, or lose her, permanently, all over again.

**A/N: It's drawing to a close! Major sad face! But, there's one chapter left—no, I'm not going to leave you hanging like that.**

**Please review guys. Please? Would it help if I told you it was my birthday? Because it totally is =) And it would make my day if you would leave some feedback.  
**


	10. Chapter 10: An Epilogue

**A/N: Last chapter—I'm kind of sad (my first legit Young Justice story, and it's over…)**

**Special thanks to The Cretin for your early/ continued support, and incredibly kind/motivating words. Also a special thanks to ****j9162****, ****spezria26****, and Wolf skater for the ongoing support of this story. Y'all are awesome. But furthermore, thank you to anyone who reviewed/ favorited this story. You guys are the best. And if you were able to just stick with this and **_**read **_**it (in spite of my inconsistent updates) you deserve a thank you too.**

**Enough blabbering (for now). On with the show.**

**I do not own Young Justice.**

I miss her.

That is, until she walks into the room, fresh morning sunlight on her mint green skin.

"Sorry," she saunters along the side the couch. I set the newspaper I'm reading down on the end table to my right. "Overslept." She pulls a rubber band out of her hair, and re-smoothes it into a ponytail, just to let go of it again. Before she can pick a seat, I draw her down close to me and kiss her, for a long, long time.

Blush fills her freckled cheeks. I tip my forehead to hers.

I don't regret forgiving her. I don't regret leaving to be with her. Never.

We moved away, started a life. She teaches pre-school at a local community center—she adores the kids; it suits her. Me, on the other hand, I took up the family business, went into writing for the local paper. It's quiet. But we get to be together.

She laces her fingers into mine, and I can feel the slender ring around her finger, shiny, thin and silver. The one I put there, because the day we left, I was sure of it: I never wanted to be without her.

It wasn't perfect, it still isn't—she still has bad days, when she gets stinging headaches and overhears thoughts she shouldn't; she still has to have sessions with her uncle; she's still wary about using her powers. But she—we—do alright.

I've let go of the past; she has too.

I miss the life, I'll admit that. I think she does too. She misses Gar and the team, but we all stay in touch, for the most part.

I kiss her again, dousing my free hand in her hair. She's wearing it longer again. She comes up with a gasp. I smile just seeing her.

The corners of her lips turn up. "What?" Her brow rises.

I tip her forehead to mine, a silent permission for her to enter my mind. I trust her—she hasn't abused that since the first time, and I know she won't again.

_You've come back to me._

Her smile turns serious and her eyes fall on my lips. Her open hand rests against my chest. _Did you really doubt I would?_

I place my hand over hers; her palm sits over my heart. _I knew it would be hard._ I tilt her chin up, look at her, her warm amber eyes that look so much lighter since moving here. I don't want her to be ashamed. People make mistakes—I've had time to realize I've made my fair share.

_I'll always come back to you._ She lowers herself against me, tucking herself in the crook of my neck. _Just like you'll always find a way back to me._

She's right. I wrap my arms around her. This is where we belong: together. The other stuff, it will work itself out. Because she came back to me. And I've come back to her.

**A/N: okay, so it was really short. In my defense, it was an epilogue. I tried to wrap it up semi-cleanly (I know, that's a little cliché. But I warned you from the beginning: I wanted them together). And I know it's a little AU (and I highly doubt it will actually happen like this—but this is fanfiction; so isn't that the point?)**

**Comments, concerns? Feel free to review (come on people, it's the last chapter. You can take a few seconds to leave some parting thoughts!)**

***One last note (and this is it, promise)* if you're sad it's over too, don't fret: You haven't seen the last of me. I have another semi-supermartian fic in the works (it is however, a crossover, where they will be sharing the stage with a few X-Men Evo couples—but note that I don't think you need to be into X-Men Evo to enjoy this upcoming fic). It will be quite a bit more lighthearted than this one though;) So be on the look out! (Yes, I know this was a total plug. I am not ashamed.)**

**Keep readin' guys. All my best—**

**S2 s-n-s **


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